Fortitude - Chapter 12

I woke to the familiar silence of my bedchamber, barely illuminated in the darkened room. Pale shafts of morning light filtered through the drapes, and I turned away from the light, wanting to resume the blissful ignorance of sleep. My mind refused to rest, however, and reality seeped into my thoughts like poisonous claws, dragging me deep into the clutches of melancholy.

Fighting back a rush of tears, I forced my head up from my pillow and willed my body to move, knowing my maids would eventually come to coax me out of bed. But even the slightest movement left me exhausted, and for a while I sat there, staring blankly at the covers.

The past week lingered in my mind as hazy pieces of illness and grief. After my collapse in the garden, I had been rushed to my chambers and promptly examined. Maddox had found no cause for my sudden ailment, and by nightfall I came down with a terrible fever. For hours I writhed against the sheets, crying Link's name in a panicked, delirious state. Both Maddox and Ariella, my most trusted subjects still available to me, had watched over me through the night. Eventually I fell into a restless, dream-riddled sleep.

For two days the fever held me in an unyielding grip; then finally it broke during the night. Since then my senses had slowly returned to me, and with them came another flood of anguish. I was haunted by Link's absence, tormented by the breaking of our bond. I could find only one explanation... one I could not accept.

Link and I had been born with the rare but natural gift of telepathy, which enabled us to share our thoughts without using our voices. Our bond, received the day we acquired our Triforce pieces, had enhanced that gift. As the Triforce of Wisdom settled deep within me, I became aware of a warm presence I could only describe as Link's spirit, and he felt mine in the same way. Whether our bond came from the Triforce, or whether our pieces had strengthened some preexisting connection, I did not know. The bond had always been a mysterious part of our friendship, growing stronger as Link and I grew closer.

Whatever its source, my conclusion remained unchanged. For nearly fifteen years I had sensed Link's presence, no matter where he was. Distance had weakened the strength of our bond, but not once had my awareness of him ceased. What other than death could change that?

I could think of nothing.

Four days had passed since my fever broke, and, despite my worsening depression, my physical health had improved. I could leave my bed, though I had yet to leave my chambers. An unfriendly world lay beyond its walls, one I would have to face—and soon. I would not crumple into a recluse while Ashton ruled my kingdom.

With a rush of anger I flung my covers aside and rose from the bed, grabbing my robe as I moved toward the balcony. Those few steps all but depleted my energy, and I considered retreating back into bed, back into the blissful ignorance of sleep. Suppressing the urge, I opened the glass doors and stepped into the fresh air, closing my eyes as it rustled my loose, unkempt hair.

Through the bond, Link had been my constant companion. His presence had become a part of me, and an unceasing source of warmth and comfort.

Now he was gone, and I was alone.

I slumped over the balcony rail, letting silent tears trail down my face. How can I go on like this? What is my life without you?

A timid knock at the bedchamber door drew my attention. "Lady Zelda?" came a muffled voice. "Are you awake?"

I did not reply, but the door opened anyway, and two maids stepped inside.

"Good morning, my Lady," one greeted me through the balcony doors. "It's so good to see you up and about."

"We have breakfast for you in the drawing room," said the other.

Again I said nothing, so they went about their business, making my bed and opening my wardrobe.

"Lord Maddox believes you should leave your chambers today. He recommends a walk through the gardens, nothing strenuous..."

I sighed and turned from the balcony—only to stop when I saw a black gown spread across my bed.

"Black?" I whispered.

The maids looked up, concern lining their young faces.

"Yes, my Lady... You've entered into mourning now; have you not?"

I stared at them, then at the gown. Black. The mourning color.

A widow's color.

It was all too real… too real…

"Get out," I whispered.

"M-My Lady?"

"I said get out!"

Frightened, they fled the room and closed the door behind them. I snatched the dress and threw it back in the wardrobe, grabbing a blue gown instead. Quickly I pulled it on, struggling to fasten the buttons with my trembling hands. Then I ran a brush through my hair, letting it fall loosely down my back and shoulders.

Promptly I left my chambers, suddenly tired of its familiar, suffocating walls. I needed to get away, to distract myself from that place so full of memory.

.

I wandered the halls in a trance, ignoring the metallic clatter of my guards behind me. People talked in hushed voices as I passed them by, though I barely noticed their stunned expressions. Walking with hunched shoulders and eyes downcast, I was nearly unrecognizable—especially since I had neglected to wear makeup or jewelry. I couldn't will myself to care. All I knew was the cold ache inside, the gnawing void that once held Link's spirit.

Eventually my footsteps slowed, and I realized I had wandered into the castle infirmary. The place was empty, now that the war had ended.

These walls have seen much suffering…

Something drew me toward the end of the corridor, and I paused when my gaze settled on a door labeled Room A. It was one of eight special rooms reserved for high ranking officers—or any soldier who required a private room.

Releasing a deep breath, I reached for the knob and slowly stepped inside, closing the door to shut out the guards.

A double bed lay against the far wall, its clean white sheets and feather pillows untouched. Beside it sat a table, large enough to hold a lamp, a water pitcher, and a bowl. Two cushioned chairs also occupied the room, one near another larger table and one near the bed. To the far right stood a closed door, which led to the adjoining bath.

Memories flooded my mind as I looked about the room, haunting me like phantoms. Link had spent several weeks in that very room, recovering from injuries that should have killed him.

It happened nearly three years ago, during the final months of the Retribution War. Link had been stationed far from the castle, near the northwestern border with Tar Alem. I chose to serve as a healer in a nearby village along Lake Hylia, where soldiers often came to recuperate. Of course I had wanted to help them, but I chose that location to be closer to Link.

I never imagined he would be a patient there.

I had woken with a start one night, feeling that something terrible had happened. I sensed my bond with Link had significantly weakened, and my panic drove me into the main infirmary house. There I was startled to find Clef sitting outside a room, looking tired and shaken.

"It's Link," he murmured. "He's..."

I rushed into the room, my heart pounding in my throat. There I found Link lying on the bed, unconscious, barely breathing, and covered in blood.

He had suffered multiple injuries, including a stab wound to his chest and his back—where the blade had run him through—a concussion, a few broken ribs, and other minor injuries.

By the will of the gods, Clef and his team of soldiers had found him beaten and left for dead in a forest beyond the Tar Alemian border. Desperate to save him, they rushed him directly to Hylia Village—without General Keiton's knowledge.

"We were headin' back toward the camp," Clef told me when we spoke later that night, "and one of my men spotted a body just lying there alone in the woods. It was covered with a cloak, so we went to investigate. Could hardly believe our eyes when we saw who he was... Findin' him there like that, so soon after such a brutal assault… it was nothin' short of divine intervention."

For days Link had remained in a comatose state, but his heart—narrowly missed by his attackers—kept on beating. As his primary caretaker, I rarely left his side, not even to rest. Again and again I treated his wounds, all the while begging the gods to let him wake, and finally he did. He had been so disoriented, so overwhelmed with pain and fear, even after he saw me there at his bedside. I remembered how weakly he closed his fingers around mine, struggling to speak my name...

I had known the village was hardly a suitable place for his long and painful recovery. The houses were already overrun with patients, creating a noisy, stressful environment with an overworked staff. I longed to bring Link back to the castle, where he could recover in peace. As soon as he was stable enough to travel, I had him transported to the castle in a private covered wagon.

Our telepathy enabled us to communicate without exhausting him, but I did not press him to talk about his assault. Link remembered only frightening, hazy pieces of it, and just thinking about it had caused him added stress. Sometime after he was settled into the castle, however, those hazy memories began to clear.

"It was Keiton," he had told me in a hushed, near emotionless voice. "He selected those men for that so-called mission... my would-be assassins."

General Hector Keiton, a nobleman with more than thirty years of military service, had been a highly respected officer in his prime. As he aged, however, Keiton's mind grew increasingly paranoid. Link had always sensed a tension between them, and he suspected Keiton envied his youth and superior talent. Link had no intention of forcing him into early retirement, but the two had many disagreements that Link was forced to swallow. Convinced that Link would destroy everything he struggled to build, Keiton had gathered his most loyal followers—extremists of the worst kind—and conspired to have Link killed. Murder had been easy enough for a man of his power during a time of war.

Link never publicly accused Keiton, mainly because he and his four assassins all died in battle shortly after Link was brought to the castle. I had wanted to investigate further, in case others still meant to harm him, but Link chose to bury the ordeal with the dead. I had promised I would keep his secret, at least until the war ended, but I refused to attend Keiton's funeral—and every other gathering in his honor.

My actions had surprised Link. Until that point I had always taken great lengths to hide our relationship, and to guard my reputation. Link understood the need for some caution, but my obvious shame had hurt him at times. Only after his near-death experience did I finally abandon that caution. Watching him suffer through his difficult recovery had completely altered my perspective. My shame had dissipated, and I felt determined to meet his every need, no matter what gossip came of it.

And yet, though I felt closer to him than ever before, I often wondered if I was good for him. I wondered how much simpler his life could have been, had he stayed away from politics, away from war… away from me.

"Suppose you left all this," I said to him one day, after he had made significant progress in his recovery. "You could go live in the country, lead a peaceful life for a change."

He had scoffed, as he always did when I said such things. "Sounds boring."

"Nonsense. Your adoring wife and children would keep you well occupied. Before long your life here would be a distant, unpleasant memory."

I knew that kind of talk bothered Link, but I had wanted him to consider it. But he showed no sign of uncertainty. Instead he sighed and reached for my cheek, giving me a fond, knowing look.

"Now who's talking nonsense?"

Talk of the many hours I spent with Link inevitably left the servants' corridors and spread throughout the castle, creating quite a stir in the Audience Chamber - which I had avoided for weeks. For a while my father dismissed the matter, knowing Link had no family to visit him. He had suspected my feelings for Link but chose to trust the both of us. When I refused to attend Keiton's funeral, however, his patience finally snapped.

He confronted me about my behavior, and, knowing I could no longer keep Link's secret, I launched into an angry explanation regarding Keiton and his followers. When I had finished, my father studied me for a long moment, then breathed a heavy sigh and confined me to my chamber.

His personal investigation had been brief. There was little evidence beyond Link's word and Maddox's suspicions regarding Link's injuries. Unwilling to bury the conspiracy, my father had offered to conduct an official investigation once the war had ended, but Link had humbly declined, hoping the matter would die with Keiton.

Unbeknownst to me, my father had spoken with Link for nearly two hours, but I was not released from my chamber until the following morning. My father had summoned me to his office to discuss a subject I had only dreamed he would consider - permission to officially court Link.

I had been given my heart's desire—the possibility of a marriage with Link—but with that blessing came a warning. My father reminded me that our marriage would be highly unorthodox, and that we would face inevitable hardship - Link especially. As a princess since birth, I was accustomed to a life of high expectations and constant scrutiny, a life without true peace or privacy. As a prince who married into royalty, Link would not only sacrifice a great deal of freedom; he would subject himself to a new level of scrutiny. Nobles and commoners alike would watch him, judging whether he had earned his place at my side. Even if he performed his duties perfectly, traditionalists would always resent his humble origins.

"Which would be more painful for you," my father had asked me, "to let him go now, and preserve what you feel for each other in untarnished memory, or to watch those feelings diminish through years of difficult and complicated marriage?"

My father had quickly raised his hand, halting my fierce retort. "I know - they may never diminish. But that future is a mystery, even to you, and so you must consider every possibility - for your sake as well as his. Even if he never changes, even if his devotion proves strong enough to endure such hardship... is this truly the life you want for him?

And so I returned to my chamber with a heavy heart, unsure how to broach the subject with Link. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, my father had not only given him permission to court me, but to ask for my hand in marriage. Nothing could be announced until the war had ended, but my father's blessing was more than enough for Link. He had visited my chamber to propose at his earliest opportunity, unable to wait another moment. The memory remained painfully vivid, undimmed by the cruel passage of time…

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I started, blinking as the view outside my window came into focus. Cold tears streaked my face, and quickly I brushed them away.

"Come in," I called, forcing some strength into my voice. I knew who stood outside my chambers.

Silently Link slipped inside and closed the door, wearing a smile so bright and joyful that I—thinking about our permitted courtship—could not help but return it. Within seconds he had crossed the room and lifted me up into the air, laughing as he twirled me about.

"Link!" I cried, both surprised and aghast. "Link, stop, you'll hurt yourself—!"

"Impossible!" he laughed. "I feel good as new—better than new!"

But he quickly set me down and grabbed my shoulders, steadying himself with a grimace.

"Really, Link," I murmured, holding him until his dizziness passed. "You're barely off bed rest—"

"I welcome the pain," he said breathlessly, lifting his head with a smile. "It assures me this isn't a dream."

"Link..." I trailed off when he kissed me—slowly, tenderly. I felt the depth of his gratitude in that kiss, his profound relief that such affections were no longer forbidden. For one blissful moment I let myself share in his happiness, forgetting everything from the floor beneath my weakening knees to my father's troubling advice.

Then Link pulled away, and the haze dispersed as he reached for my hand.

"Come," he whispered. "Over here..."

Wordlessly I followed him through my bedroom, mustering the strength to bring up my father's words. Link was so happy—happier than he'd been in a long time—and I couldn't bear to dampen his spirits.

He led me out onto the balcony, where a cold autumn breeze blew about, banished by the warmth of Link's hands holding mine. He paused there a moment, stroking my knuckles as he sorted his thoughts into words.

"...Five years ago we stood here, on this very balcony," he said softly. "Do you remember what I told you that night?"

The memory surfaced through my troubled thoughts, bringing with it a gentle rush of happiness. Link had told me many things that night—rambling, sincere, wonderful things that forever changed our relationship.

"You told me how much you love me," I murmured, feeling my voice catch.

"Yes," he whispered, cupping my cheek. "And I swore to love you as you deserve to be, without fear or uncertainty. Have I ever broken my word, Zelda? Have I given you any reason to doubt me?"

"Never," I breathed, leaning into his touch. "I have never doubted you."

He gave me a gentle smile. "Then I have no more reason to hesitate."

To my utter astonishment, he slowly sank down onto one knee, his hands still grasping mine.

"I offer you no political advantage," he said, his eyes gazing up into mine. "And I realize that taking me as your husband would... complicate things, but I love you with every fiber of my being, and I will support you in every way I can."

I watched his earnest face, my heart pounding against my chest. Despite my confusion I could not bring myself to interrupt him.

"My heart is yours; it's always been yours," he added softly, "But now you can have all of me, if you wish it…"

I released a quiet, trembling breath and steeled myself as I slowly, painfully drew my hands from his.

"How… How is this possible?" I whispered. "My father gave us permission to court, but…"

"You mean he didn't tell you?" Link asked. "Your father allowed me to propose in private at any time before I return to my duties, but I couldn't wait another moment…" He trailed off, studying my face as his eagerness faded to concern. "Have I been too hasty?"

"No, I... Link, are you sure this is what you want?" I asked him, struggling to form the words.

"Of course it is," he answered with an equally hushed tone. "How can you ask such a thing?"

"Because I'm not good for you."

He gave a quiet sigh and slowly climbed to his feet. "Zelda-"

"No, listen to me," I said as he drew closer, forcing some strength into my voice. "To marry me means giving up your freedom, your privacy-"

"I know what it means," he said gently. "And I accept all of it, without hesitation."

I shook my head, swallowing the tightness in my throat. "You can't just... We need to discuss this..."

"I've had years to mull this over, Zelda. I've made my choice."

"But look at yourself, Link!" I pleaded. "Look what your rising status has earned you - scars and grief! Do you think that will end if you marry me?"

"What happened to me has nothing to do with us," he said. "Keiton was paranoid and unstable."

"He was also powerful," I insisted. "And he won't be the last to oppose you, especially if you gain royal status. Others may take extreme measures against you."

Link gave me a withering look. "That would be treason."

"You think that would stop them? Need I show you the history books? Extremists will always exist, hiding in plain sight, and you should fear them."

"But I don't," Link said firmly, stepping closer. "The only thing I fear is a life without you. You know that."

He spoke without hesitation, and his intense gaze broke through my composure.

"Link..." I whispered, succumbing to my tears. "I-It's not that simple..."

I tried to turn away, but he took me by the arms, holding me with a firm yet gentle grip.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked me. "What did your father say to you?"

"Only the truth," I choked. "My life is a gilded cage... wrought with hidden agendas and unspoken rules... I don't want that for you, Link..."

"Politics will not keep me from you," he murmured. "Not anymore. I would rather share your cage than face a lifetime of peace without you."

I shook my head, feeling more tears streak my face. "You say that now..."

"And I will say it tomorrow, and every tomorrow after that." He tipped my face up to his, studying me with a knowing look. "Why this uncertainty all of a sudden? You think I will tire of it all one day? Fall out of love with you?"

Dread closed around my heart with a heavy grip. Link was too honorable to betray or even leave me, but I could not bear to see our marriage reduced to one bound by honor alone.

"Oh, my Zelda," Link soothed, brushing my tears away. "I could try to convince you that's impossible, but I would rather you let me prove it to you."

"But I... I worry that you've... underestimated how difficult our marriage would be for you. My father can't rule forever, and things are bound to change for us..."

"But things will never change between us," Link insisted. "Zelda, if I truly wanted a simpler life I would have walked away from this years ago. But I want you. Only you, with all your strings attached. All you need to worry about is whether you feel the same for me."

"Of course I do," I choked, holding his hand to my cheek. "I'm saying I love you too much to confine you here with me..."

"I know you are," Link said softly. "But that is my decision. Don't you trust me enough to make my own choice?"

Guilt swept through me as I realized I was doing quite the opposite. "I... of course I do..."

"Then you have nothing to fear. Darling, I've waited an eternity for this; please don't keep me waiting any longer. Marry me, Zelda…"

I looked into his eyes, feeling my heart flutter at those two simple yet crucial words. I knew, then, that Link had truly made his choice, for better or worse, and no warning would sway him. To hesitate was to doubt him, and I had no reason for it. After all we had overcome, everything we had faced during the Imprisoning War and our renewed lives thereafter... how could I even consider a life without him? He was a part of me, and I of him. If I pushed him away, if I succumbed to my fears and insecurities, I would regret it the rest of my life.

"Yes," I whispered, reaching for his cheek. "Yes, I will marry you."

His anxiousness melted into a warm, relieved smile, and he drew me into his arms with a sigh. I buried my face against his shoulder, clinging to him as he stroked my hair and kissed my temple. We held each other a long moment, letting the remnants of our anxiety fade to relief.

"I have something for you," Link murmured, gently pulling away and reaching into his pocket. Knowing what he meant to give me, I quickly dried my tears with my sleeve, hoping I didn't look a complete mess when he offered me his ring.

"I didn't mean to present this like an afterthought, but I also didn't expect you to back out on me…"

"Oh, Link, I didn't mean to-"

"Shh," he soothed, cupping my cheek with a smile. "I'm just teasing."

"But still... I ruined your proposal..."

He gave a quiet laugh and reached for my hand. "You said yes; that's all that matters."

Gently he placed the ring on my palm, closing my fingers before I could see it. Only after he pressed a slow, near reverent kiss to my knuckles did he let me open my hand. I breathed a quiet gasp, startled by what I saw.

His mother's ring.

He had worn it around his neck all his life, parting with it only when he left for war. I had kept it safe for him, waiting for him to come and reclaim it. I returned it to him weeks ago, never suspecting he would give it to me for good.

"Link," I breathed, pressing a hand to my heart. "Link, I cannot take this… It's all you have left of her…"

"Yes," he said softly, "and I want you to have it."

I started to argue, but he pressed his fingers to my lips.

"I'm giving this to you because it means so much to me. You are my family now, and this ring symbolizes that better than even the finest jewels." He paused then, uncertainty crossing his face. "...Do you like it?"

Sighing inwardly, I closed my hand around the ring and pressed it to my heart. "How could I not?" I whispered. "It's beautiful, Link... I'm honored to wear your mother's ring."

I tiptoed up to kiss him, a gesture he sweetly returned. Then he took my hands and placed the ring on my finger with loving care.

"Perfect," he whispered, giving me another smile. I kissed him again, wrapping my arms around his neck as he drew me into his warm, solid embrace. We kissed again and again, oblivious even to the steady droplets of rain...

.

"Stop it," I whispered aloud, opening my eyes as a tear slid down my cheek. Stop thinking about him. Angrily I brushed it away, wishing I could rip the memory from my mind. My gaze dropped to my hand, where the small red stone of his mother's ring glared back at me.

He's with her now... and his father too.

I drew no comfort from it. Anger swelled within me, tightening throat as I fought not to cry.

Releasing something between a growl and a sob, I rose from the bed and moved for the door, storming out into the corridor. Bitterness frosted my demeanor, darkening my features and quickening my step.

My life must go on without him. I will not wither into nothing.

Briskly I left the infirmary, ignoring the guards as they clattered behind me.

xxxxxxx

The Audience Chamber was bustling as usual, since the majority of the court had gathered for midday meal with Ashton. He had brought this Vandelian tradition to Hyrule, ignoring the Council's complaints about the high expense of such frequent, lavish meals. Many of the more ignorant or indifferent nobles enjoyed the change, however, and Ashton's word was final.

"Her Majesty, Queen Zelda!"

Everyone turned as I entered the chamber, clearly surprised to see me. Still they greeted me with bows and curtsies, gestures I did not return. My eyes remained fixed on Ashton as I approached him. My angry demeanor must have intimidated the musicians, since they had yet to resume their tunes. Only whispers broke the silence as the ladies observed my attire. My maids had fixed my hair and powdered my face before I appeared at court, but I still refused to wear black.

"A blue gown… Is she not supposed to be in mourning?"

"Perhaps she cannot accept his death. She did love him so…"

"How tragic, to be widowed so young…"

Ashton's usual flock of ladies stood with their head bowed, and quickly they gathered behind me, their faces flushed with embarrassment.

"Good heavens, Zelda," Ashton exclaimed. "I had no idea you'd be joining us —"

"What are these lies I hear you have spread about my husband?"

Silence followed, one charged with tension as everyone awaited his reply.

"I have told nothing but the truth," he said simply.

"And that would be?"

He murmured a quiet laugh, then raised his voice to address the rest of the court. "Your queen is under the delusion that I somehow raised an army of the dead. How I, a Vandelian without any trace of the Gift, could wield that kind of power is beyond my comprehension."

The nobles echoed his laughter, but the forced, nervous sound betrayed their uncertainty.

"Your claim, then?" I demanded, my eyes boring into his.

Ashton's smile faded. "The truth, dear Zelda, is that your beloved husband summoned that horrid army, not me. He used some enchanted staff to raise them up out of the ground, and they attacked everyone in sight. He was unable to control them, and because of his error your army suffered heavier casualties than mine."

His words echoed into silence, which I shattered with a burst of laughter.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! My husband has always been reluctant to use his Gift at all—he wouldn't dare meddle with the forbidden arts!"

"Perhaps his lack of experience led to his failure," Ashton replied. "I'd rather not defend the man, but he was quite horrified by what he'd done. He sealed even his own demise, having died from wounds inflicted by those monsters. My men managed to seize his staff, and I ordered them to destroy it. The monsters burrowed back into the earth soon after, but the damage had been done. I ordered my men to retreat, allowing both sides some time to recuperate. But your soldiers were leaderless and overwhelmed—it was only a matter of time before we defeated them."

I gave another bitter laugh, partly to disguise my panic. "You cannot possibly believe his lies," I exclaimed, turning to the surrounding nobles. "Ashton is the one who used that staff, and Link destroyed it, sacrificing himself to save countless lives. Our soldiers would attest to that, if Ashton hadn't silenced them in his faraway prison!"

"And how could I possibly acquire such a staff?" Ashton countered. "How could I even use it? Need I remind you I haven't a drop of magic in my blood?"

I glared at him, struggling to find a response. I could not simply accuse him of conspiring with the figure from my dreams. Premonitions made weak evidence, especially after I had suffered an emotional breakdown.

So I turned to my people, appealing to whatever loyalty existed beneath their fear.

"My husband devoted ten years of honorable service to our kingdom," I reminded them, keeping my voice strong. "In his young life, he achieved a long list of accomplishments—military as well as humanitarian—and his record stands in stark contrast to Ashton's claims. My father, your late king, recognized his quality and chose him to be my husband, chose him to perform the Rite of Kingship, and still you doubt him? Still you believe Ashton's lies?"

Tears streaked my face as I looked from person to person, desperate to unmask their guarded faces. But they stared back in silence, unwilling to defy Ashton.

"I speak the truth," he said. "Whether or not you accept it doesn't change that. The court has accepted this tragedy, as have the rest of your people. Even the Alliance has accepted it."

I froze, slowly turning to meet his haughty gaze. "...The Alliance?" I whispered.

"They came and left while you were ill," Ashton replied. "You were in no condition to receive them, of course, so I explained everything. They launched an investigation, I gladly forfeited the broken pieces of your husband's staff, and that was that. They will send representatives to follow up with you if needed."

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest.

No...

"And don't bother looking for that Sheikah of yours either," Ashton added, resentment darkening his tone. "She fled the castle as soon as my guards tried to take her in for questioning—vanished before their very eyes. No doubt she used some dark witchcraft."

Before I could even begin to respond, the doors to the adjoining Dining Hall opened. Two attendants appeared and bowed at the waist. "Midday meal is served, my Lord," one said.

"Excellent," Ashton smiled, clasping his hands together. "Come, Zelda, let us drop this unpleasant subject and proceed to the Dining Hall. We don't want to keep our guests waiting."

I felt his hand on my back as he led me into the Dining Hall, where a series of long tables had been laden with a small feast. Another smaller table had been placed at the far end of the room—for Ashton and his few select guests.

I barely registered any of it but slowly sank into the chair an attendant pulled out for me. Inside my world was crumbling, collapsing on the fragile hope I had built there.

This is the lie Siena mentioned... I realized. This is why the crowds have lessened at the gate... why the court has stopped complaining...

This is why the Alliance has kept its distance.

My people had not embraced Ashton's rule, but his lies had doused their resistance like rain onto fire. The rumors had given angry, grieving people someone else to blame while brewing uncertainty in others. Ashton had woven a convincing tale, and the truth had been silenced with our soldiers. Even if Ashton released them, they had only word of mouth to accuse him. The Vandelian soldiers would readily defend him and further criminalize Link.

No one knew of the true perpetrator, the evil figure who had given Ashton the staff and murdered Link in cold blood.

How can I have justice? How can I prove anything?

"Is the food not to your liking, my Lady?"

I looked up to find the emerald gaze of Alicia Grefaire watching me across the table. Somehow she had taken the chair perpendicular to Ashton's left, directly across from me. I caught the mocking gleam in her eyes, but I could not find the will to care.

"I seem to have lost my appetite," I murmured.

"Oh, but you must eat, Lady Zelda," Margarete spoke up, concern lining her round face. "Especially since you've been so ill..."

The clattering cutlery and surrounding conversation seemed unnaturally loud, grating my nerves as I reached for my fork. After spending so many days in quiet seclusion, I had grown unused to the noise and attention.

"My Lord," Alicia said to Ashton in a velvety tone, "is it true you intend to take Lady Zelda as your bride?"

Her expression looked perhaps too disappointed, but I barely noticed. My thoughts had strayed to Impa and her mysterious disappearance. Part of me was hurt that she gone without trying to reach me, but I knew Ashton would have locked her in the dungeon.

"I do indeed," Ashton told Alicia. "The wedding will be a grand and joyful celebration."

The ladies responded with enthusiasm, delighted as always by the prospect of grand festivities, and I reached for some bread to occupy myself.

"Lady Zelda does not seem very pleased," Alicia murmured, casting me a sly glance.

"She's mourning, Alicia," Ashton chided. "Give her time. She will learn to appreciate the many benefits of our union."

I felt his eyes on my face but kept my hands busy, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I know you're hurting, Zelda," he said with feigned gentleness, "but I can help you move on. Things will improve once we're married—that I can promise you. I'll show you pleasures you never dreamed you would have…"

I reached for my wine glass, biting my tongue to keep silent. I would not give him the satisfaction.

But Ashton wasn't finished. Slowly he leaned toward my ear, murmuring in a breathy, sultry tone.

"…When I'm through with you, you won't even remember his name."

I froze, squeezing my wineglass until I slowly set it down. My hands shook with rage as I bundled my napkin and slammed it hard against my plate.

"Don't make me laugh," I hissed, rising from my chair. "You will never be half the man he was."

Then, without thinking, I took my glass and splashed the wine in Ashton's face.

Gasps filled the now silent Hall as I turned toward the nearest exit, stunned by what I had done.

I had nearly reached the stairway when a hand grabbed my arm and thrust me hard against the wall.

"How dare you make a fool of me," Ashton seethed, green eyes narrowed with rage.

"Let me go —"

He snatched my jaw, squeezing my face between his thumb and fingers.

"You shut your mouth," he growled. "You are mine now; do you understand? If you desire something other than misery, you would do well to obey me."

I felt his hand under my skirt and reacted, summoning my power and thrusting it outward —

Ashton released me with a cry, staggering back and hitting the opposite wall as my magic coursed through him.

I tried run away, but a powerful wave of dizziness sent me down onto my knees. The room tilted as I clumsily struggled to my feet—

I gasped when Ashton snatched me again, silencing my cry with a hand over my mouth.

"You ever do that again," he hissed, his voice ragged with pain from my attack, "and you will regret it."

Then he shoved me back toward the stairway, and I struggled to distance myself as quickly as possible. Minutes later I heard the clatter of my guards behind me, and I fled down the corridor, ignoring the concerned looks of passers-by.

Despite my lingering dizziness, I ran until I had reached my chambers. There I flung the doors open and locked them behind me, leaning against them as I sank to the floor. I sat there a long moment, waiting for my pounding heart and shuddering breaths to calm.

Then I opened my eyes and gazed toward the bedchamber, aware of my throbbing head and aching body.

Sleep, I thought. I need to sleep.

I climbed to my feet and dragged myself through the doorway—pausing when a framed pictograph on the bedside table caught my eye. I reached for it with a slow, trembling hand.

I remembered the day we took that pictograph, back during the Retribution War. Link had wanted a more recent pictograph of me to keep while he was away on duty, and I insisted we both pose for it. Saria had taken it for us in the Sacred Forest Meadow…

I gazed down at the image, admiring his handsome face, his crooked smile.

"He gave his life freely, you know…"

I closed my eyes, clenching my teeth as the grief burned in my chest.

"He abandoned you, Zelda."

Anger burned through me, forcing a sob from my throat. "No…"

He abandoned you.

"NO!"

With a scream I threw the pictograph across the room. It smashed into my vanity mirror and landed face-down among the fallen glass.

"Why did you do it?" I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "You knew what would happen; you knew…"

Weakly I sank to my knees, my body shaking with each sob. "I can't go on like this… I can't…"

My palms hit the floor as I wept uncontrollably, struggling for each short, uneven breath—until a sharp pain stabbed my abdomen, forcing a gasp through my tears. Startled, I released a slow, trembling breath and waited for it to pass.

But another came, even sharper that time. I cried out and struggled to my feet, pressing a hand to my stomach. The pain worsened as I staggered toward the bathroom.

"What is this?" I whispered, clutching the door frame for support.

Then I felt it—a strange warmth trickling down my legs. Panicking, I grabbed my skirts and looked down, too scared to breathe…

My scream pierced the air the second I saw red.